


Music Box

by Sylverstia



Series: Chronological Order [44]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Cheesy, Emotions, F/M, Fluff, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 20:23:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20494793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylverstia/pseuds/Sylverstia
Summary: While everyone is recovering, Sixty is discovering something new.Set in between chapter 2 and 3 of Friends Don't Do Like That





	Music Box

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Kian Again for beta reading this oneshot!
> 
> Believe it or not i made an actual playlist for this oneshot.

Listening to an android throwing up in her bathroom wasn’t what she wanted to do this early in the morning.

She was leaning against the doorframe of the locked door, one hand raised in a soft knock. “Six, are you okay?” She tried not to sound too worried, maybe this was just a normal thing. The android had gone through so much stress in the past three days, anything could have caused this.

If he had been human at least.

There was the beginning of a word, drowned out by a splatter against the toilet. She shivered.

“Open the door.”

The key turned and when she nudged the door open, she saw him hunched over, one hand clinging to the bowl the other used to steady himself on the floor. Silvy was glad he had made it to the bathroom in time.

Ignoring her own turning stomach, she crouched down next to him and rested a hand on his shoulders. He shuddered under her touch, spit into the bowl and flushed it. As he reached for the paper and wiped his face, Silvy bit her lip in concern.

“What happened?”

His voice was rough when he replied, “Cindy mentioned that that could happen, because there was so much damage and everything needs to recalibrate… I don’t like it.”

She scoffed. “At least it’s nothing I can catch. You good?”

He nodded. “I think so…”

His face was impossibly pale and he swayed dangerously when he pushed himself back to his feet. Silvy grabbed his arm without thinking about it, guided him back into the living room and had a bucket next to the couch in seconds. What followed was a glass of water, a cup of chamomile tea, a box of tissues and a pile of blankets, topped off with a warm water bottle.

When she put a box of salt crackers on the coffee table he frowned in confusion.

“…What is all of this for?”

She scoffed. “Comfort. Being sick sucks. Even if it’s just …. _recalibration._” Her hands made air quotation marks and he smiled at her.

“I think I’m fine. But thank you for all of this anyway…” he nodded at the blankets and the water bottle he was already hugging.

Sinking into the pile of soft fluffy surroundings, he closed his eyes against the annoying sensation in his stomach. It wasn’t painful or unbearable, but it was unusual and he didn’t like it.

He was dozing off when a soft ruffling noise roused him again. Sylvia had pulled the polka dotted box out of her bookshelf, and carried a square box over to the coffee table. She had already cleared a space for it.

He watched as she fumbled with long cables for a moment, then as she pulled the polka dot box closer.

Next she put square shaped cardboard sleeves onto the table and opened the top of the box on the table. He realized it wasn’t just a box. It was obviously some technology, but his database couldn’t find a match without a barcode or a label.

“What is it?” he asked as he sat up, blanket over his shoulders and eyes fixed on the strange device.

Her smile lit up the room. “A record player.”

_Oh._

She pulled a vinyl record from one of the colorful sleeves. It was yellow and red with faces of three men. “Bee… Gees?” Sixty read aloud in confusion.

She laughed silently, eased the black disk onto the pin and turned the device on. He leaned forward to watch closer when she pulled the arm onto the record and let go.

There was a moment of crackling silence, before a song started playing. He hadn’t heard anything like that before. But he was intrigued. That box was full to the brim with records.

A full box of music he had never heard.

In fact, all the music he had ever heard were the songs Hank played in his car, and those weren’t _his_ memories. So, he really hadn’t actually listened to music. Ever.

He figured that it wasn’t too late to try that now. With nothing to do and his stomach rebelling for whatever reason, he found it as good an idea as any.

Silvy happily indulged him in showing how to use the record player, and after a few songs of KISS, Depeche Mode, ABBA and Eric Carmen, he was confident he would be able to select the records himself and switch them without breaking them.

“Why do you have a device that is… this outdated-“ He held up a hand as if to stop himself. “No wait. Let me rephrase that. Why are you so interested in outdated technology?”

She grinned at him. “No internet access. It was made to do what it does. Nothing more.”

“That’s all?”

“And it looks cool.”

He smiled at her. “It does.”

“When my parents were young, they used these to communicate their feelings to each other.” Silvy explained then as she gently brushed over the cover of a record of a band called Chicago. All Sixty knew of that was that it was a city in Illinois.

Why did humans name their bands after cities?

“Why did they do that?” He asked instead.

She shrugged. “I think… they both weren’t really good at explaining what they felt.”

“That makes sense.”

She nodded. “And… by how Detective Reed called us, I think we’re giving off a much different impression to how close we are.”

A smirk crossed his features. “Everyone thinks I’m your boyfriend.”

She laughed. “It’s a little weird, don’t you think?”

He nodded eagerly. “Humans typically wait for a while before engaging in this kind of relationship. And androids…” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

She handed him a record and smiled. “I think I feel like this right now.”

He took the sleeve into his hands and frowned. “Frank Sinatra.” He read aloud. “My database says he was famous.”

She nodded. “He was.”

When he switched the record, she put the pin closer to the middle of it. “That’s the song I mean.”

A slow melody started playing, and Sixty felt a smile creep over him when the man started singing. “Strangers in the night…” he muttered, then continued to listen to the song.

Sylvia was silent until the song faded out, then looked at him, waiting for him to say something.

“This song… is very close to our situation, isn’t it?”

She nodded hastily. “It’s cool isn’t it? That songs can express what you can’t put into words.”

He had to agree with her. “But you know all of these songs. I don’t.”

She grinned and handed him the box. “Oh, I got nothing to do and we got all day.”

As the early morning turned into noon, they had listened to a ton of her records, all now saved in his perfect memory.

“And?” She asked from the kitchen as she made herself lunch, “Good idea?”

“Very.” He agreed. “I never knew music could be so diverse.”

She grinned when she returned to the living room. “This Hank doesn’t seem to have good taste in music. Who listens to metal when they’re casually going anywhere?”

Sixty shrugged. “Hank?”

She shook her head and sat down next to him.

“Connor did find out that he likes jazz too.”

Silvy’s face lit up. “Oh, I got jazz. Tons of it! And Swing, and Latin and-“ She pulled out another record.

Sixty had assumed that at some point the box would get emptier, with how many records they had already listened to, but he had underestimated their volume. There had to be at least fifty in that box.

The record she pulled out of the sleeve was black like the others. But it was smaller.

“What’s that-“

“That’s just a few songs. But you can turn it around, like the others. It’s what they made before CDs I think.” She shrugged, switched the record and folded her hands in her lap with an excited grin and the music started playing.

Sixty noticed that the style of music was different, and unlike most songs they had listened to this one was sung by a woman.

Silvy hummed along with the song, moved with it. “_Over and over again-_“ she sang along.

“Is…” Sixty started, but couldn’t finish. Something about this was different. This wasn’t just a song they listened to.

The way she reacted to it was so different, so much more emotional. It was strange. “You’re communicating with a song, right now. Am I correct?”

Silvy nodded eagerly. 

“…Are you-“

She shrugged. “A woman in love? Yeah?”

He blinked at her, paused. Not finding the words he needed. Hesitating, he pointed at himself, opened his mouth with a question on his lips, but the words wouldn’t come.

She laughed silently. “I think it’s just a general feeling. This,” she spread her arms to gesture at the living room. “I love this. This place, this situation, the whole… everything. And I’m really fond of your presence. You’re a good friend.”

He nodded. “I think so too. You’ve been… kind. You… gave me a chance even thought I was a complete stranger. I’m grateful that you’re sticking around with me.”

She leaned against him, rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m not ready to get into that kind of relationship.” She explained silently. “But I love you anyway. Not in that romantic kind of way. You’re… That’s difficult to explain.”

He was biting his lip now, not knowing what to respond. He had no reference to any sort of relationship that was similar to this. Maybe Cory and Detective Reed. They seemed very close. But their relationship was different. Quite different.

“It’s not platonic.” Silvy tried to explain. “But it’s also not friends with benefits. I don’t want to have anything sexual. I’m not that kind of person.”

He shifted against her and for a moment she thought he would leave her hanging, but he brought an arm around her and pulled her into a hug. “All of this is new to me.” He admitted. “I have no reference. Of course, I have the database, but that is just data. Not experience.”

Her arms found their way around him without much thought. “I- I mean we already kissed, so that makes us more than friends?” She tried.

He shrugged. “Or we could just have our own thing. Something no one else has.” He suggested. “As far as I know, there aren’t many androids who are with humans anyway. We’ll always be strange to others.”

She grimaced, grabbed another record and put it on. “This is a song in one of the cheesiest romance movies I know.” She explained. “I want to watch it with you.”

“What is it called?”

“Dirty Dancing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Records played:  
Tragedy - BeeGees  
Strangers In The Night - Frank Sinatra  
Woman In Love - Barbra Streisand  
Be My Baby - The Ronettes


End file.
